Oh, and for some reason there are two eggs on our lawn. Chicken eggs.

Clearly you were supposed to make your own McGriddle.

Clearly you were supposed to make your own McGriddle.

At first I thought maybe God was compensating me for the late McGriddles. But it wasn't a very good job (I don't know if they're even cooked). Maybe God made His intern Kevin do it.

Jesus, you found vore links when searching for Where the Wild Things are clips?!?

Actually, what I find most disturbing about this is that the scene in question involves a child. Sexualizing digestion, okay, not my thing, but I'm not going to judge. But sexualizing kids is hands down blanket statement NOT OKAY.

I went to McDonnalds and placed my order. Then someone after me placed the same order. She got her order right away, and I had to wait five minutes while they were all confused before they figured out there were two orders for a sausage egg mcgriddle.

This happens at coffee to us all the time. It happened where we had to wait an extra 10 minutes for a damn latte that someone else picked up off the hot bar. The irony is the guy came back and returned the stolen drink that he snatched because IT WASN'T RIGHT. No shit, asshole. It wasn't a mocha because we ordered a latte.

ARGH.

But sexualizing kids is hands down blanket statement NOT OKAY.

::twitch:: I can't even let my brain near that. The people who are into ageplay stuff even make me twitchy. I mean, they're consenting and not involving actual kids, so fine for them, but my brain still runs away screaming at the idea.

I was in BK for lunch yesterday and the woman calling out the orders called out my number wrong. Eventually I was the only one waiting and there was only one bag on the table, so I asked what was in it. Sure enough, my lunch. The woman gives me a dirty look and says "Didn't you hear me call 4???" Which I had, except the number on my receipt was 9...

"Didn't you hear me call 4???" Which I had, except the number on my receipt was 9...

Was it the right lunch, or did you get someone else's?

The guy at my Coffee Bean thinks my name is Taylor. I haven't worked out how to slip in that, dude, that's not the surname I told you. He doesn't look at my debit card. But I missed a couple drinks before I worked out what was going on.

Now I'm just stuck in uber-polite land.

Also, an OC S4 highly amused place. Perhaps if he was calling me, say, Thompson, I would have corrected him by now.

Was it the right lunch, or did you get someone else's?

My lunch, illiterate BK employee.

where arousal occurs from the idea of being eaten

This reminds me of Woody Allen's line: "Sex and death are two things that come but once in my lifetime, but at least after death you're not nauseous.: